


Tape

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-12
Updated: 2005-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-01 05:44:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/352659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's easy to accept something you don't understand. Smallville Sex and Violence Pact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tape

## Tape

by onelittlesleep

<http://www.livejournal.com/users/onelittlesleep/>

* * *

A month earlier, Martha came into the house with a bushel of potatoes and found Lionel Luthor standing by her sideboard, black jacket like an angry mark on her sunny kitchen. 

"What do...what are you doing here?" She asked, voice clipped, but when she saw the half smirk on his face, she knew she wasn't being short enough with him. "I want you to leave..." She added. 

"Martha, I came by today to speak with you about the nature of Clark's relationship with my son." He paused and raised his eyebrows. "Is...Jonathan here?" 

She swallowed and put the basket beside the sink, turning away from him to catch a breath. "No. He's not. And I don't think we have anything to say about Clark and Lex...not to you..." 

Lionel tutted her and then drew closer. He wasn't near enough to reach out and touch her and yet she felt her back crawl as though he was pressed to her. 

"Martha...if you knew what our sons were up to, I think you'd understand the necessity of this conversation." 

"I know perfectly well what they're `up to'." She scoffed, turning back to him and crossing her arms protectively over her chest. "Clark has told Jonathan and I about the... _adjustment_ in their relationship. It was a little shocking at first, but we've come to accept it. We're okay now, Clark's okay...Lex too. You don't need to...come here and..." She paused, frustrated enough to nearly wither away at the emotion in her voice, the weakness. 

His face was all false shock, mouth dropping open for a moment before closing and working. Then he turned away with that slight smirk and he shook his head. "Martha, Martha...I'm afraid they've pulled the wool over your eyes. If you could only _know_ what's really happening, only _see_ , you'd be horrified...utterly disgusted with the _perversity_..." 

Her face flashed red. "Get out of my house." 

* * *

Jonathan flipped back the quilt and got into bed, groaning. 

"Ahhh...these old bones are aching." He said with a boyish grin. Martha smiled back slightly and closed her book. 

"Another mystery?" He asked. 

"Hmmm, yes." She hummed, curling towards him, her cool hand resting on his lean hip. "I think I like the excitement...the intrigue. God knows, it's a break from picking potatoes." She sighed loudly. 

He chuckled. "Amen to that." 

He was snoring into his pillow before she could decide if she ought to tell him about Lionel's visit. 

* * *

She clicked the phone down and was like a peach flurry, cheeks blazing and red hair shining as she danced over to her husband. He laughed and caught her waist. 

"They're coming home for Thanksgiving, aren't they?" 

"Yes, they are." She beamed "So you had better start thinking about what you're going to say to them..." 

He sighed and shrugged. "I guess talking about football and farm equipment with Clark while _Lex_ is around isn't really...appropriate." 

"Neither is it appropriate for Clark anymore. He's not going to want to talk about the farm...he's going to want to talk about his classes, his friends..." 

"His college bills and how they were just magically paid for?" He snorted. 

She frowned and took his face into her palms. "Jonathan..." She said, gravely "....please don't bring that up. He'll...they'll tell us when they're ready..." 

* * *

She was just easing the last pie crust into her prepared dish when the door bell rang. Thinking the boys had snuck under her radar, she gasped and laughed, brushed her hands off on her apron and swung open the door. 

A young man in Fed-Ex dark blue smiled politely and cleared his throat. 

"Oh." She said. 

"A package for you, ma'am. Uh, Mrs. Kent?" 

"Yes..." She said, taking the small brown paper covered package into her hands. 

"Sign here." 

"...I wasn't...expecting any packages..." She said, quizzically. 

"Have a nice holiday." 

She closed the door behind him and flipped the package over. The return address was a post office box in Metropolis. It wasn't one she recognized. She stepped back into the kitchen and tore the brown paper open. 

It loomed black in her hands, an unlabeled videotape. She clutched it for a moment and then shot a look over her shoulder to make sure Jonathan wasn't around. Then she opened up the cookbook cupboard to obscure anyone's view of her if they came into the kitchen. She turned the tape over and over in her hands, frowning. Wondering. 

There was the soft sound of a car coming down the road that turned gritty as it rounded the driveway, heralded by the unmistakable bleat of Clark's truck's horn. Then she heard Jonathan's boots hit the upstairs floor and tromp across the hall and down the stairs. Frantically, she shoved the tape into a pile of her cookbooks and closed the cupboard. 

"They're here!" He hollered, and went out the side door. 

Clark was laughing and leaning into the bed of the truck, clutching his duffle. "Hi, guys!" He said. Lex climbed out of the truck cab, smoothing his long black coat down, raising his hand to say hello. 

"Clark, get your bag later. Go give your mom a hug." She heard him say, and Clark dropped his stuff on the ground and trotted over to her. 

"Ohhh, Clark. I've _missed_ you." She sighed as he took her into his arms and hugged her too tight. 

"...missed you too." He said. 

When he set her down Jonathan was shaking Lex's hand and slapping his back warmly. Lex's smile was soft as he joined them on the porch. 

"How's school?" Jonathan asked instantly, crooked grin on his face as he hugged his son. 

"It's great. It's good to have this semester over, though. That journalism course was pretty rough." 

Lex smiled as he gave Martha a light, airy hug and then she shooed them inside. In the kitchen, Clark took a deep breath and sighed. 

"Wow, mom, it smells good in here. Did you make an apple pie this year?" 

"Of course," She said. "Let me take your jackets." 

Lex shifted his jacket off and then began helping Clark out of his. Clark was too busy sniffing into pots on the stove and peering in the oven to notice Lex pawing at his shoulders, easing his jacket down. 

"Hold still." Lex said, amused. 

"I'm sure Clark can take off his own jacket, can't you son." Jonathan said, and then there was an awkward moment between them, Lex freezing, stopping with his hands hovering over Clark's arm, Jonathan standing off to the side with a sour, worried look on his face. And Clark just stood up, closed the oven and said 

"Huh?" 

"Take off your jacket, dear." Martha said, voice calm. 

"Oh...." He said, grinning, pulling off his coat and tossing it at Lex. 

* * *

Dinner was ready around 5, and the yard was dark, the porch light just coming on as she opened the door and peered out at the boys on the steps. They were both bundled up in gloves and hats, and Clark had his arm slung affectionately over Lex's shoulder. 

"Dinner's ready." She said softly. Clark looked over his shoulder at her, his cheeks flushed bright from the cold. 

"We'll be in, in a moment." He said. 

She closed the door gently. 

"What're they doing out there?" Jonathan asked, knocking back a handful of roasted walnuts. 

"Talking." She said breezily, and put on her oven mitts. She carried the yams to the table, situated them beside the glistening cranberry sauce and then looked up as the two boys came into the house. Lex was still whispering something to Clark and she was surprised when he firmly caught Clark by the collar and pulled him close. Her son leaned in to listen intently to his boyfriend and she watched his eyes narrow for a moment, his lips press together. And then his face broke and he chuckled and pulled back. 

"That's ridiculous...Why would your father take it? We just...misplaced it when I moved my stuff to the penthouse." He said, and then pressed a quick, careless kiss to Lex's frown. "Or maybe Rita moved it when she was cleaning up after the party...Let's not...jump to conclusions." 

"Clark..." Lex said, voice black. 

"Can we just..." Clark sighed. "...enjoy this night?" 

Then he looked up and caught her eye and she looked away, embarrassed to have been prying. 

* * *

"Everything was delicious, Martha." Lex said graciously, carrying a stack of dirty plates to the sink. She smiled and made room on the busy sideboard for him to put them down. And then she was surprised to find him leaning in to give her cheek a chaste kiss. She blushed, pleased with his warmth, then cleared her throat and said 

"How are things, Lex?" 

He rolled up the sleeves of his expensive grey shirt and turned the faucet on. "Business has been good, if that's what you mean." 

"Good?" Martha had to chuckle. "I saw, just last week, that Lexcorp made 'Business Weekly's `Top 20 Companies to Work For' edition this year..." 

He grinned, eyes flashing and began washing the dishes. "You saw that, huh?" 

"Mm-hm." She hummed, covering the half-eaten bowl of potatoes with saran wrap. 

He shrugged. "It's been a good year." 

* * *

"Did she make you wash the dishes?" Clark asked, looking up from the television. 

Lex sat down and snuggled close to him. Jonathan fixed the television with a long, hard, unblinking stare. "She didn't _make_ me do anything, Clark. I offered. And you should have offered to clean up the table." 

Clark patted his own stomach. "Can't. Full." 

Lex smiled and pinched his knee. "I'll give you...full..." He said faintly. 

Martha wrung her red hands nervously as she stood in the doorway and watched her husband's shoulders tighten up, wondering if he'd get through this night without a back-episode. 

* * *

They were getting into bed, her arms hurt from carrying the turkey across the kitchen, and she suddenly, painfully remembered the blank videotape that was stuffed in between her cookbooks. 

She listened to Jonathan's nasally sleep sounds lessen and stretch out, and when she was sure he wouldn't awaken, she shifted his arm off of her hip and slipped out of bed. 

The hallway was black as she stepped out in her bare feet. She paused and could hear the clock ticking in the living room and then, under that, the murmurs of the two boys in Clark's room. She listened to them for a moment, trying to catch what they were talking about, but the sound was too quiet, almost not there at all. She padded down stairs. 

The kitchen was blue with moonlight, cold and dark. She tiptoed around, opened the cupboard and brought the unlabeled tape out with both hands. She held it to her bosom, breathing harsh from excitement and trying to keep quiet, calm. 

In the living room, she crouched before the television and vcr, turning to look nervously over her shoulder at the French doors, worrying that one of the boys would be standing there because... 

because she already knew, but didn't...didn't _want_ to know what was there, what she would see when she pressed the tape into the vcr and turned the tv on. 

The screen flickered, blinking for a moment, and she turned the volume down low. She swallowed and sat back on her heels, waiting, watching the colors come up, the screen sharpen. 

For a second, she was confused. She couldn't comprehend what had appeared. The screen was full of movement, shadows, slick _noises_. And then she heard the unmistakable sound of her son sobbing, voice tight... 

Her stomach rolled sickly and she had to press her palm across her mouth to cover the shriek that wanted to bubble out when she finally understood what was _happening_... 

Her son was crying, panting, rocking on hands and knees as Lex moved behind him, rolling his naked hips slowly, obscenely. 

"Please, Oh God, Lex...please, fuck me... _fuck_...oh..." He gasped and dropped his head forward as Lex's hips began to buck faster, snapping. 

Martha's eyes went wide as Lex leaned back to reach off-screen, his muscles cording, his flexing abdomen dripping sweat. And then he was sliding a black leather belt around her son's neck and pulling it _tight_. She saw Clark rear back, his neck muscles straining, his voice weaker, hurt... 

She scrabbled to turn the tv off, her face a red rush of embarrassment and shame, and then saw the glint of something green around Lex's neck...looked closely at the man riding her son with a snarl on his lips... 

"God!" She cried out, on the edge of tears, because that was _Kryptonite_ , Lex was wearing _Kryptonite_ , and 

"You're nothing, Clark. You're...uhn...fucking _nothing_ without this, without my cock...God...take it, you shit...you...fucking _freak_." Lex growled, his eyes narrowing as he twisted his ass viciously. The belt wrapped around his white knuckled fist creaked when he pulled it _tighter_. 

Clark's eyes rolled white and his mouth dropped open noiselessly. His face turned a livid red, almost purpling. 

"Clark." She cried weakly, watching her son struggle for breath. 

"Take my cock...Take it...fucking _take_ it! Jesus...oh oh... _God_. Uhhhnn, fuck. Does it hurt, alien, when I fuck your ass this hard? God, don't you fucking _bleed_ on me, don't you fucking... _fuck_..." Lex gasped and took hold of Clark's shoulder, pulling him back, his movements shaky now, ragged. 

Clark was mouthing something, whining, and Lex loosened the strap. 

"What? What do you have to say to me?" Lex demanded breathlessly. 

"Love you...God, Lex, love you..." He whined, and she cringed when she saw the look on his face, the open love and pain and _need_ and then she turned away quickly, shocked, because he was coming...because her son was _coming_... 

"You...ah! You tight little _bitch_. Fuck....Fuck! Clark! God, oh...Fuck! You stupid _cunt_!" 

She flipped the tv off, but before it darkened, she had to listen for a moment as Lex desperately groaned out his release. 

* * *

She took the tape out of the vcr, fingers numb. Brought it to the kitchen and threw it in the trash. She stood swaying over it before reaching in to pull it out and then put it back into the cookbooks. 

She barely made it. She left the front door swinging on its hinges and was down the porch and into the snow just as she jerked forward and vomited. Steaming, the smell of half-digested turkey and gravy hit her nose and she was nearly sick again. She fell back onto her ass and felt the hot tears streaming off her cheeks. 

She looked up at the lone, warm light in her son's bedroom window and thought: _How stupid, God, how stupid to have let this happen, to have not known_. 

She could kill him. She could go to them in the night and pry his slender, sinful fingers off of her son's body, knife him, shoot him with Jonathan's hunting rifle, smother his cruel, smirking face with a pillow. 

Was half-planning to when the cold got under her skin and made her bones hurt, made her shiver forcefully, losing track of her thoughts. She got up and walked miserably back to the kitchen where she had often felt discouraged, lost, angry with her quiet place in life. She leaned against the counter and swallowed back her frustration. Wondered how she and Jonathan had been so blind, to gloss over the truth of this, the bare reality. How hard they had both tried to let this be okay, not even stopping to wonder if it really _was_ okay... She quietly walked back upstairs to bed. 


End file.
